Sun Fortune
by Dorotheian
Summary: How Himawari falls in love with the man whom she later married, the only one who is able to withstand her bad luck and become close to her, and why.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: This will only be stated once. The following story is a fan work derived from the manga/anime series _XxxHolic,_ which was originally written by CLAMP. I do not profit from this work of fan fiction. I do not own the characters who I am borrowing from _XxxHolic_. I do not write canon, I twist, change, and play with what is canon. Questions? No? Didn't think so...

* * *

_**Sun Fortune**_

**-/ Chapter 1 \-**

* * *

She had gotten distracted; she hadn't been paying attention. Himawari steps just wrong on a crack in the sidewalk and her ankle rolls out from under her. She spills sideways, arms arms flying outwards, and she lands hard against the girl next to her—she forgets—people are always following her—Kawashima, wasn't that her name?—and sucks in her breath. She immediately bows to apologize, hoping against hope that nothing will happen. But the girl dazedly stumbles into the street, and a random bicyclist slams on his brakes and barrels right into her. The girl crashes to the ground, and the wheel of the bike gets caught between her legs: both bicyclist and the bike flip in the air. The bicyclist lands on his back. Neither of them are moving.

Himawari drops the briefcase she had been holding and sinks slowly to her knees. A boy runs past her from behind, yelling 119, and rushes to the girl. Himawari crawls forward, despite herself, because she doesn't want to look, but she must look, because once again, this is something that she has done...

The boy catches her eye and stares at her, and Himawari realizes that she's not doing anything, just looking, being useless, being an outsider. The boy mouths, DO SOMETHING, and mimes speaking into a phone. Or maybe he shouted it, but Himawari can't hear. Startled, Himawari digs out her phone and dials the number with fingers that haven't yet begun to shake. The number connects and Himawari answers the questions she can. Afterwards she doesn't remember what the questions were, or exactly what she said, just the voice at the end: _It's okay, help is coming_. By then Himawari's hands are shaking so badly that she drops the cell phone to the pavement—it clatters; her fingers are still jerkily twitching. She watches them as if they belong to someone else. She feels so drained. It doesn't matter. She doesn't believe them, it's all over, they are both dead and there's nothing that can be done. Too much has happened for her to believe in any other outcome. It's been years since something happened quite so quickly, directly linked to her, right before her eyes like this. At least not since Watanuki fell out of the window...

That was quite a long time ago. The thought makes her feel vaguely ill.

The ambulance arrives, and they take both the corpses away.

The boy finished talking to...to the police, she thinks dully, who else would it be...and he glances her way and she can see their eyes flash at her: they're going to ask her questions.

She stands, holding her briefcase, half-sways, half pivots to the side. She doesn't want to. If she's could...but she's trembling, and too tired to bolt.

"I saw everything," the boy says loudly. "Please, she's in shock. Don't talk to her right now! I told you everything."

"But you said—"

"It was an accident," the boy said, angry. "You have no idea what she's been through! I saw it, she couldn't have prevented that!"

"With all due respect, sir, she's—"

_Been at the scene of an awful lot of accidents_, Himawari's mind supplies for her. _It's suspicious._

"How do you know she's not just very, very unlucky?" the boy interrupts.

Hearing that, Himawari nearly falls to her knees.

"She's the one who called 119," the boy says softly. "_She_ did it. It's not her fault."

"We can interview her later," the policeman reflects.

"Please." The boy bows.

They hand her a card. She fumbles for a pen; they give her one. She signs it distractedly, puts down her number. But before she gives it back, she glances at the boy who did this for her, and she blurts out, all in a rush, "It was my fault. I tripped over my a-ankle and fell, and she tipped in the street. I knew her but not that well. We were just classmates. I l-liked her, but I never n-noticed h-her, and now—"

"He your boyfriend?" the policeman interrupts, glancing between her and the boy.

She shakes her head. "I don't even know his name."

The boy looks pained at that admission, but he doesn't say anything. Irritated, he snaps, "She's not my girlfriend, she's in my chemistry class."

The policeman sighs. "All right. You can go on home."

"Thank you." The boy says it. Himawari starts walking, and he follows her, as he must have been doing the whole time.

* * *

"Where do you live?" says the boy. Up close, she decides, he is really uncomfortably tall. Which isn't really fair because he's only around Doumeki's height, and she never thought of Doumeki that way. Maybe it's because he's still gangly...

She almost tells him. Then she remembers her curse and decides not to. "A little ways ahead. What's your name?"

"Hisaki Muun. Meaning, 'Sun Fortune' and 'No Luck'."

"Hisaki-san. What a strange name..."

"I know. What do you think, Kunogi-san?"

"It seems contradictory," she says reluctantly. Heart fluttering, she thinks, _i__t seems oddly...significant._

"I know, right? But it's not, actually. I think it means that wherever I walk under this sun, I have no luck but the luck I make myself, which brings me fortune. I mean, the sun has only one gift to give to everyone equally, right? Does that make sense."

Himawari has to stop and think about that one. "I see," she says finally. "Yes, it does make sense. You must have gotten teased a lot when you were young, though."

Hisaki shrugs. "Yeah, I hated my parents at first, but it's kind of become a personal philosophy."

"It's a good one," Himawari says softly, looking at the ground. She wishes she could be so carefree...

His smile is kind, and more knowing than she would like. Than she thinks he could actually be, and that scares her a little.

"I live here." Hisaki points to a house across the street. To her shock, it's not all that far away from hers. They had been in the same neighborhood for years and she had never noticed.

But she doesn't say anything to enlighten him. "See you."

"Tomorrow," he agrees, with a quick smile.

He leaves before she can protest. But protest what? It's not like he's going to intrude on her lunch sessions with Doumeki. Suddenly, she feels the loss of Watanuki keenly. She is weary. Doumeki is Doumeki, as always, but it is not the same. Nobody knows her liked Watanuki did. No one else can cheer her like he could. She has a million acquaintances, just like the Kawashima girl, but no friends. And she's tired of it all. Tired of them, tired of Doumeki, tired of Watanuki being gone. She misses the luxury of having someone to be genuinely close to.

Once he's inside his own home, she enters her house. Tampopo flies to her finger and cheeps, and she smiles, despite herself. It's not actually all that bad. She's not quite that alone.

* * *

The boy named Hisaki waits for her at school. He smiles at her from behind the gate, and steps forward to talk to her.

She feels strange. It takes a while before Himawari realizes that the reason she doesn't recognize the emotion is that it is not born of anxiety or trepidation, but from pleasure and happiness. She was...she was _glad_ he had waited for her.

That alters her perspective a little.

Himawari squares her shoulders, and turns to him, accepting him into her space.

"Kunogi-san," Hisaki says. "Good morning."

"Good morning. You know, you can call me Himawari if you want," she says quietly.

"Himawari-chan," he repeats. "Himawari-chan, please call me Muun."

"Muun-kun." She smiles—a genuine smile; Hisaki Muun almost gapes at the sight. Himawari thinks it's cute. Watanuki used to make expressions like that. But now she also feels a little sad.

Muun is watching her. "What's going on? Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" she says in surprise, looking up.

"You lost your expression and were staring into the space over my shoulder. You looked kind of lost, or upset."

"Oh." Most people don't notice... "I had a friend who made goofy expressions like yours, once."

His brow snaps together in understanding, and then a certain softness rolls over his face. "I'm sorry," Muun says gently.

Himawari hefts her briefcase, an unconscious reminder that they really ought to be getting to class. "Don't be," she says, subdued.

"Why not?" he demands, surprising her again.

"Because..." she says vaguely, "He's still alive, and we're still friends." She begins drifting towards the classrooms.

He follows her. "Meaning he's sick, or that he moved?"

"Both, I guess," says Himawari listlessly. She doesn't feel like elaborating the lie. She glances around. The halls here are empty; all of the posters and student artwork has been taken down recently.

"Did he go to this school?"

"Yes."

"Who, then?"

"He was the boy who fell out the window," she tells him as they mount the stairs.

The air Muun breathed whistled through his teeth. "I see... I didn't know him that well. He's still recovering, then?"

"Yes." _Not that he's ever going to leave the wishing shop in my lifetime, if he's serious about seeing Yuuko. Even if I hadn't been who I was, I don't think I could compete with Yuuko's hold over him._

"Did you love him?" They turn the corner.

Himawari turns pale. "No. Never." More softly still, so softly she's sure Muun can't hear her, she whispers, "_We couldn't..._"

"Why do you look so guilty, then?" Muun persists.

"What happened to him was my fault." Himawari shoves open the sliding door to her classroom and enters. Muun takes a step back, and Himawari lets the door slide shut.

It probably surprised him. Himawari has a reputation for being kind and patient with everyone, for never letting her own faults get in the way of others. He must be surprised by this chilly display of selfishness.

* * *

They have chemistry together. She'd forgotten. Muun immediately heads for her as a partner in the latest experiment. Himawari's covey of girl friends, the ones who compliment her and defend her and make sure no one bothers her, back away. She doesn't understand at first, but then she sees their hope for a brimming romance in their eyes. They don't want to watch, not sabotage this. Whatever "this" is. Feed for their chatter. Himawari sighs, and accepts, though it's not for their sakes.

"We've never worked together before," said Muun carefully.

"No, we haven't," Himawari agrees, thinking of her girl friends. One of them usually takes the role of her partners in everything.

"I'm happy to have this opportunity."

Himawari feels a little irritated. He doesn't have to be _that_ nice. "You know I burn and ruin everything in chemistry. I haven't written a single lab report that doesn't mention experiment failure."

Chemistry is Doumeki's best subject. Although he's tried to tutor her before, nothing could help her terrible experiments, and eventually he gave up. There was nothing wrong with his teaching methods.

Muun shrugs. "I know, but we'll see. Let us try. Maybe with me, it will be different."

"All right." She deliberately acquiesces too easily. He knows she doesn't believe him.

Still Muun grins, as if he's happy that he has to prove his capability to her.

They work through the experiment. To Himawari's surprise, nothing in particular goes wrong, and the one thing she made a mistake with, Muun compensated for. Himawari feels a bit relieved that she won't have to write about the mistakes in her lab report. It's a lot of extra work.

"You see, it's all Hana-san's fault." Muun nodded to one of Himawari's covey, a girl with the color of honey. "When she's on your right, she organizes things wrong and you get confused and pick up the wrong ingredient or measurement or whatever. When she's on your left, she often reads the instructions wrong from over your shoulder. She's always tripping you up, and you never notice because you're expecting to fail. She really does like you, she's not trying to set you up or anything. Rather, she's trying too hard."

"How do you know?"

"Observation."

"Really."

"Yes."

"What if my bad luck simply interferes with the experiment?"

Muun shakes his head. "It's not bad luck. It's bad organization and half-hearted teamwork and bad timing."

"What about the times Hana-san doesn't work with me, then?"

Muun grin turns crooked. "Can't explain that. But it accounts for half of your failures." Then his smile fades. "I can't figure it out for the rest of them."

"Huh..." Himawari says distractedly.

"The reason why it went well when you worked with me is that it's probably just Murphy's law," says Muun. "Whatever can go wrong _will_ go wrong. But if you prepare enough, you can prevent things from going wrong in the first place. You and Hana-san expect things to go wrong, but you only _react_ to the things that happen to you."

"Oh," says Himawari in a small voice, drawn up short.

"I told you, I make my own luck," Muun says proudly.

"But what if I don't?" says Himawari. "What if my luck is an indelible part of me?"

Muun could have dismissed her words as joking, but instead he takes her seriously. "Maybe you can learn to turn it."

Himawari shakes her head. To her, Muun's argument only proves that he is able to defeat her luck. Which doesn't necessarily mean she can change it at all by herself.

But maybe, just maybe, she tells herself, it wouldn't hurt to try.

* * *

_Author's Note__:__ It's a fact that Himawari marries. But whoever she marries, from the standpoint of the story, he has no name, no face, no personality, and no explanation as to why it is possible for him to be with Himawari when it ought to be impossible. Which wasn't enough for me. So everything here is totally made up. __As usual, I invented Hisaki Muun's name by mashing kanji with interesting meanings together. If it doesn't make sense, and I made a mistake, I'm sorry; it's supposed to be significant. If there was a better or more accurate way to do it, I would. __So, here's his name in kanji:_ 日幸 無運

_This story's not over yet. Do tell me what you think... This story is likely to see strenuous revision in the near future, so if you'd like a say in that, go to it._


	2. Chapter 2

**-/ Chapter 2 \-**

* * *

"Hey! Kunogi-san! Kunogi-san!" Muun is running in the halls.

It's the middle of break, their short recess. Himawari, in the middle of a short errand carrying some books and papers for a teacher, raises her head and turns towards the voice. "What is it, Muun-kun?" she calls back.

Muun skids to a halt front of her, panting a little, leaning on his knees. "They're okay. The bicyclist and the girl from the other day... They're both okay. Mostly."

"What? How...?" Himawari says faintly. "I thought they were dead."

Muun shook his head. "It was in the daily papers today." Muun opens his school bag and rummages in it, takes out the paper he spoke of.

Himawari takes it, skims it, finds the article. She doesn't want to see the results, but the words spring out at her from the page anyway. _Broken legs. Fractured skull. Partial paralysis. No permanent brain damage._ "They're alive, then." She folds the paper, and looks away, avoiding Muun's eyes.

"Yes," says Muun, simply, and Himawari hands the daily paper back to him. He tucks it in his school bag and looks at her. "This isn't the first time that something like this has happened to you, though..."

"What?"

"You expected it too much for it be an unusual occurrence."

Himawari turns away.

"So that's a yes?"

Himawari cringes. He walks up, right beside her. She avoids looking at him.

"That's a _yes_," Muun says, voice soft. Himawari swallows. He waits.

"I-I've b-been this way all my l-life..." she stutters, panicking.

"I'm sorry. You must feel _horrible_," he says.

Shocked, she stares at him. "What?" A spark of fear enters her chest. Sure, his words were sympathetic, but she has no idea what he's going to say next.

"I didn't realize it was this bad," Muun says in a low voice. "That you think that you are such bad luck that you cause these things to happen."

Her hands begin to shake. Himawari flexes them, partly from her anxiety, partly to mask their trembling at her sides. She looks up. "But I do. Cause these things to happen," she says in a small voice. She doesn't know where she got the courage to say that. That honesty she couldn't even dredge up for Watanuki. But now the damage is done, the words can't be unspoken, unsaid. Her eyes flash to his, searching his face, expecting to see—what? Nothing, she can't read him, she _can't read him_. Certainty dissolves—

The world crumbles about her, a curious ringing in her ears as she watches Muun's expression freeze, shut down, and fall into shadow. It is not quite pity, but close. He doesn't believe her at all—worse than that. "I see," he says, and the words are toneless. In an instant Himawari knows that his estimation of her has changed completely. He thinks she is crazy, that she's imagining, hallucinating things. She couldn't possibly have power—luck doesn't exist for him. She shouldn't have told him. Of course he wouldn't believe! It was wrong. It was a mistake. She is such a _fool_.

She can't defend herself. If she tries to argue, to convince him—if he doesn't understand that this is the _truth_ about her, the broken base her other beliefs all stand on—she will scare him worse than she has already. _This can't be fixed_. She's going to lose him.

It's all too much, the pain. Couldn't stay. Himawari backs away, turns, blinking tears from her eyes. "It's not safe," she mumbles, knowing he won't understand but desperate to save him anyway— "You can't be near me," but he won't believe her— and she pivots and lurches blindly in a direction, any direction. She stumbles, barely managing to hold onto the books and papers in her arms, and begins to run.

She slams into someone hard—someone tall, a teacher, the principal maybe, but she doesn't care, it doesn't matter—the books slam into her chest, air rattles out of her lungs and the books shudder in her grip. She staggers and leans to sprint forward but their arms reach for her and it's too much, too heavy, she drops the books on the floor, papers fly everywhere, and in the confusion she weaves just out of reach and she's running again, wrapping her arms around her chest.

Himawari sprints through the hall, dodging students and teachers and doors, searching for something, a way to escape, a way out, a way to collect herself. Everyone is trying to stop her, but she finds it—a door, a small door, a small place in the dark, alone, no one to watch her, to see her, to judge her—the door was open, she leaps inside—it is surprisingly empty—and she slams it shut. Her breath is harsh and ragged, even a little whistley, within the metal confines. She sags against the door, now locked shut, and cries.

By the time Muun catches up to Himawari, people are frozen still. Muun shouts and them, yells at them to go and leave the girl alone—snapping out of their shock, they all trip over themselves to get away from the sound. Then Muun stands there alone. After a few moments, the teacher Himawari ran into shuffles into the room, wincing a little, and stops just behind Muun. He waits.

Himawari's weeping becomes more and more quiet.

The teacher touches Muun's shoulder, and Muun uncurls enough to see his tiny nod.

Muun takes a deep breath, and says, "Himawari-chan?"

Hearing the name, the teacher's eyes widen, and his eyebrows lift. He hadn't had enough time to recognize her, and was surprised.

Himawari makes a small, incoherent sound in reply. Probably a sniffle.

"I'm sorry, Himawari-chan. I didn't mean to make you upset." Muun's voice is thin, like a pin dropping in the middle of the empty foyer. The teacher's hand, all experience and sincere concern, squeezes his shoulder, as if in affirmation. So he must be doing okay. He takes a deep breath.

She hears him. This time Himawari makes a sound that definitely sounds like a low, dry sob.

"I don't understand what happened," said Muun. "I—I sent everyone out of here. It's just me, and...and Sensei. You can take all the time you want. Class already started. I'm just...going to talk."

The teacher nods. Good response.

Rustling from within the locker goes quiet. Maybe she's ready to listen.

"I—" Muun twists to glance at the teacher; he can't say what he really wants to say. He hopes he won't judge him too badly. "I guess— I just want you to know that I really…I love you." What the hell. He didn't think he would be saying it now, but it's true.

A dull thud. A—a clang?

Muun tries not to think about it. "I don't care what you believe. It doesn't matter. L-l-luck doesn't matter." Jeez, having the teacher on his shoulder is making him nervous. Whatever could he be getting out of this? "I-I've been watching you for a long time, so I've known for a while. I guess you didn't know that. Maybe that's what scared you, figuring that out today."

"Muun-kun..." her voice is faint. "What are you..."

He waits, hopefully, but she doesn't say anything more. "I'm sorry because you shouldn't have to believe that stuff," he continues. "Nobody should have to monitor themselves that carefully, it's just not humanly possible. You must be in such fear, all the time, and nobody ever suspected. I don't know. If I lived with that every second of my day, maybe I would decide I didn't deserve life."

The teacher's hand clenches on Muun's shoulder, and he winces. Maybe he's masking Himawari's real problem, but he isn't getting them both out of therapy. This is going to be a _mess_.

"But you wouldn't…you didn't think that. You're strong, Himawari," Muun says. "In spite of all of that, you were always smiling. But I love you more than you think if you think that the truth that actually you would rather not be smiling right now would make me go away. You don't have to smile for me, if that's not how you feel. I couldn't hate you. I wouldn't fear you. I think you must have been afraid of that."

A soft clinking.

"Maybe it's true, what you said," Muun spells out slowly. "I knew…that all the signs pointed in that direction. But I'm a scientific kind of person. My gut feelings told me that you were right. Because I saw what kinds of things happen around you. But I simply refuse— I can't accept it as true. You have good reasons, good evidence for your beliefs which you've probably been building up from childhood, and I am going to work hard to make you believe otherwise. Remember my name? I'm Mr. 'No Luck.' I will decide what is for my own good."

"Muun-kun." The door nudges forward, a little. Himawari must have rested her forehead there.

"Are you ready to come out?" he says tentatively.

Himawari sighs through the grill vent. "Yes."

"_Can_ you get out?"

"I'm not sure..."

"I'll get the key, so both of you stay here," Sensei orders. He walks away purposefully, limping only a little.

They're both quiet. Muun begins to wonder idly whose locker Himawari crashed into and searches the door to read the nameplate. The worn, faded label reads, in scratchy spidery handwriting,_ Kimihiro __Watanuki_.

"Himawari…do you, uh, know whose locker you're in?" asks Muun.

"No..." She sounds disinterested.

"It's Watanuki's locker," he says carefully. "Isn't that interesting? Watanuki Kimihiro. I can't remember him at all. Still, the name sounds really familiar. Did you know him?"

He can hear the hitch in her breathing after hearing that name.

_Oh no._

"Muun-kun. You need to stand back."

"What?"

"Things…are going to happen," said Himawari, sounding strained.

_"Tell me why."_

"I can't!"

"Then I'm not moving."

"I _can't_!" The tiny rip in her voice betrays the onset of new tears. "You need to get back. You'll get hurt."

"I'm not going."

"I don't know what will happen but I know it will be bad! Hurry! If Sensei doesn't come back soon—"

"He's going slow. He was limping, before. So it's going to take a while."

"_Please_, go back."

"No. I won't."


End file.
